Unchained Melody
by Lacey
Summary: Post KH2. Spoilers. Instinct told it to seek out hearts, yet what it found was completion. A Nobody becomes a Somebody, and life begins anew.
1. Prologue: Blue Rhapsody

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill. Square-Enix owns all, and I own nothing.

**Warnings:** Freaking adorable Heartless.

**Unchained Melody**

**Prologue: Blue Rhapsody**

A small patch of blue flitted through the seemingly endless hallways of white. A human would have identified the creature as a Blue Rhapsody - a tiny floating Heartless. Its deceptive size would have most believe that it was a threat only to the weakest of hearts. Yet, in groups, Rhapsodies could be quite devastating.

This Rhapsody, however, was alone. Instinct told it to seek out hearts. Yet the commands of its mistress - a being so thoroughly steeped in darkness that she was capable of holding sway over the Heartless - left it patrolling the castle. If it found an intruder, the Rhapsody was permitted to steal its heart. Yet it had never found an intruder. With the exception of the mistress and those who served her, the castle had been empty since the defeat of its former master.

None of this was known to the Rhapsody. Its only awareness was of its need for hearts and the will of the mistress.

Empty, soulless room after empty room the Heartless encountered. Its only orders had been to patrol, no other specifics had been given. Few found a lone Rhapsody worth troubling themselves over. And so the Rhapsody patrolled with no destination.

When it entered into a plain square room, the Heartless paused. Straight ahead was an exit. But it could also see a landing above. Above, it remembered hungrily, had been Kingdom Hearts. If there were hearts in the castle, they would be above. Rather than leaving through the exit ahead, the Rhapsody floated up to the landing.

If the Heartless had been a thinking creature, it might have known that each room of the castle had once had a name, even the landing which it floated above. It might have even been curious about the castle itself, wondering what sorts of creatures once called it home. But the Heartless neither needed nor wanted such knowledge. It was a creature of instinct, and that very instinct urged it only to seek out hearts.

Floating onward in its patrol, the Rhapsody found next room filled with broken monuments lined up in even rows. In front of each of the shattered monuments rested red tiles engraved with weapon-shaped emblems and writing. The Rhapsody prepared to pass through the monument room when one of the tiles went from red to blue.

The Rhapsody fired off a blizzard spell in reaction, ice forming above its head and shattering against the tile. No reaction. Nothing attacked and nothing perished. Flitting over to investigate, the dull thought that perhaps the mistress ought to be informed passed through its mind, only to be dismissed by that same, never-ending hunger.

A faint hint of curiosity and the need to make certain it wouldn't be leaving an enemy behind sent the Rhapsody closer to the tile. As it neared, a faint, shimmery glow filled the remnants of the monument. The Heartless retreated, and the glow faded. Yellow eyes blinked as the light disappeared. Light, the Rhapsody knew. Light was connected with hearts.

The Rhapsody flitted forward again, bobbling awkwardly through the air. The bits of monument began glowing again. Had the monument been whole, it would have been large enough for a human to fit through. The broken pieces, however, barely afforded enough room for the tiny Heartless.

A presence danced along the edges of the Rhapsody's awareness - a presence, but no heart. The Heartless spun in the air searching for the being it sensed. This new room was dusty and dark. Only the fading light from the monument gate and the Heartless's glowing yellow eyes provided any illumination.

A shape on the floor drew the Rhapsody's attention. It was easily long enough to be a person. The Rhapsody dove for the shape, hoping to find a heart. The thing, however, wasn't alive. It was long, skinny and broken at the top. Strings traversed its length, some snapped and some whole.

The Rhapsody drifted to the ground to examine this strange thing more closely. Whatever it was, it did more than pique the Heartless's curiosity. It also aroused something very much like memory in a creature that lived by instinct.

The Heartless bobbled awkwardly when it landed, its tiny legs clumsy upon the ground. It bounded forward rather like a small bird, moving in short hops and yet ready to take flight at the first sign of danger. When nudging against the thing brought forth no response from the presence, the Rhapsody leapt onto the thing. Its feet caught in the strings, producing a brief cacophony that echoed around the room.

Frightened, the Rhapsody soared straight up, twirling in a circle and blasting ice in every direction. As the ice shattered against the walls, it produced more echoes which reverberated around the room, rumbling louder and louder. It seemed as though the noise would shake the very walls apart.

The very air trembled with the noise, shaking the Rhapsody back to the ground. It landed hard and rolled, bumping back into the instrument. And there it cowered until the last of the noise trailed off. Only when silence once again filled the strange room did the Rhapsody dare to step away from the thing.

Rather than fleeing, for the light from the monument gate had faded and the Rhapsody couldn't remember where it was, the Heartless again leapt onto the thing which had so piqued its interest. It took more care this time, straddling the strings. Hesitant, fearful of the noise, the Heartless grasped a string between its toes. It pulled and released.

A single note twanged through the room, hardly a beautiful sound. As before, the echo carried, but this time it didn't overwhelm the room. The sound pulsed and throbbed like a living thing - like a heartbeat.

_Music._ The single word surfaced from the dark depths of the Heartless's awareness. A word unconnected with anything, and yet with a meaning the creature could almost feel. The Rhapsody plucked at another of the unbroken strings, and a new sound joined the first.

Bobbing up and down, excited by the sounds, the Heartless continued to pull and release the two strings. _Music._ It knew this somehow, and it liked it.

Light burst forth from the instrument, and the Rhapsody became more aware of the presence it had first sensed. Now it could feel that presence all around. The Rhapsody squealed fearfully and tried to fly away, but its foot tangled in the strings of the instrument. Trapped, it struggled and pulled to no avail. The strings might as well have been a hand clasped on to the tiny foot.

The Heartless continued to fight as the light blazed into a crescendo. The Rhapsody had to shut its eyes against the brightness, only to find the afterimage of a man burned against its eyelids.

In a desperate bid to escape the light, the Rhapsody opened the dark pathways between worlds. It didn't care where it wound up, so long as it was someplace away from the light. Yet, as it was pulled into the darkness, the light followed. Heartless and light merged as they fell through the dark paths.


	2. 1: Forgotten Lyric

**Warnings: **Gratuitous nudity and a dash of thievery

**Unchained Melody**

**Chapter 1: Forgotten Lyric**

_I'm falling,_ came the man's first aware thought. He could feel the winds twining around his body as it plunged downwards. He'd realized he was falling in the midst of darkness, but that very darkness had lightened. As he fell, he came to realize that if he opened his eyes, he might even find light.

The man found light, but he also found water shimmering orange and gold in a setting sun. The sea came ever closer as his descent continued. With his body at the mercy of the wind, the man forced himself to relax. Though he had little other choice. He was still trying to remember what it was to have a body. He could figure out how he was falling out of the sky if he survived the fall.

Sensing the nearness of the water, the man shut his eyes. On instinct, he gulped down a quick breath just before crashing beneath the waves. Even in the water, his descent continued, but at last it was slowing. The man opened his eyes and peered around to get his bearings. Beneath him, the sea continued on into impenetrable dark depths. Above, he saw light. The man vaguely remembered another sea and another time. That sea had been entirely dark, and he hadn't know which way was up or down. In this sea, however, he struck out towards the light.

Fear of the darkness below kept the man moving. His lungs burned from the lack of air, and his body ached from the fall. Yet little by little, he swam towards the light above until at last his head broke through the surface of the water. The man gulped the air as though it were the sweetest-tasting thing he'd ever encountered.

Until he had the time to figure things out, the man decided it would be best to concentrate on survival first. Against the light of the setting sun, the man saw the silhouette of a city. Though he knew not what he might find there, he knew that it had to be better than waiting to die in the ocean. The one comfort the man had was that the water was warm from the day's sun. Though as darkness fell, the heat would dissipate.

With little other choice, the man began swimming yet again. He fell into a comfortable rhythm, humming to distract his mind from his exhaustion. He knew he'd been in a sea before, and it stood to reason that he had some experience swimming. And yet, he felt as though it had been a lifetime ago. Luck seemed to be with the man as the currents pushed him towards the shore.

Wet sand squished between the man's toes, both gritty and comforting. He crawled to shore to collapse above the tide line. Here the sand was dry, and it clung to his wet body. The sand crept into the nooks and crannies and the man's form and he shifted uncomfortably.

Memory and discomfort prompted the man to raise a hand and concentrate. He expected ribbons of darkness to answer his silent beckoning, curling around his body and clothing him in that self-same darkness. No power stirred at the calling.

"Inconvenient," the man chuckled, pushing himself up. Though he was tired, this was no place to rest; not while he was so exposed. More interesting to the man was his amusement. He was happy. And that happiness out-shone any disappointment he might have felt over not having access to the powers of darkness.

Being cut off from powers that his memories told him he'd once relied on, the man started taking in his surroundings. The beach sprawled all around him, sand and scattered palms. A snack bar, closed for the evening, huddled amongst the small dunes at a safe distance from the water. In the distance he could hear a train. However, the man had no munny for a ticket. Where ever he was, he was starting from scratch, without even clothes on his back.

The town, the man decided, would be his best bet for finding clothing and shelter. The thought of betting roused a new memory of a man with pale blond hair dressed all in black. "Luxord," the man murmured, placing a name to the memory. The memory, however, retreated back into the fog of the man's mind. "Luxord" was a fragment, a piece from the man's life and he tried to recall more. No more recollections came, however.

The man shrugged off a momentary frustration. He felt certain he would remember more in time – who he was, how he'd arrived here. His earliest memories were of darkness, of being nearly nothing. Whatever had happened to him, the man couldn't shake the feeling that he'd almost ceased to exist. All things considered, a fragmented memory was a small price to pay to still be alive.

Again, shrugging off this minor annoyance, the man glanced upward at the town perched upon a hill. He need not hide down on the beach and play castaway. No need existed to build a rude shelter from palm branches and whatever else he could scavenge, especially not when he had a perfectly functioning pair of legs. The thing to do seemed obvious. The man began following the train tracks.

A short way along, the man spotted a splotch of pink upon the sand. A quick investigation yielded a towel abandoned by some careless beach-goer. One man's loss was another man's gain. Grabbing the towel and knotting it around his waist, the man continued onward.

The open-air station came into view. A single-car train waited on the tracks, but the man couldn't spot anyone manning the ticket booth. A shade pulled down most of the way obscured his view inside. No doubt someone was there, but with the beach pretty well abandoned, the ticket salesman might have decided to call it an early night.

Moving as quickly as his tired body would allow, the man dropped down from the platform onto the tracks. He kept low as he moved around to the far side of the train car. The gold-plated railing on the back glistened inviting. The man grabbed on and pulled himself up just enough to rest his feet on the train.

It was in this precarious position that the man found himself as the train lurched into motion. He managed to maintain his grip, but only at the price of his modesty as the towel came fluttering loose. The man couldn't help but laugh at his predicament. "Oh, man! I guess the fates are conspiring to keep me naked."

As awkward as the situation was, at least the man knew he was avoiding any messy confrontations that might have erupted had he tried to force his way onto the train without a ticket. Once safely past the platform, he climbed over the railing to rest against the back of the train car. He felt himself fairly safe as long as none of the train's paying passengers decided they needed a breath of fresh air.

Forests replaced the sand and palms of the beach, and the cool night air raised goosebumps on his bare flesh. He definitely wasn't dressed for the climate, or much of anything else for that matter. He resolved to find himself some clothing as soon as possible.

When the train pulled to a stop at a new platform, the man disembarked in much the same manner as he'd come onboard – stealthily. Or at least, he attempted stealth. "Hey, you! Stop him!" a voice barked out from the ticket booth. Apparently in town they paid more attention than on the beach.

"I'm totally not the right guy for this sort of thing," the man muttered to himself as he took off running. Dashing away from the platform, the man followed the only path available, hurrying down a set of stairs and into into town. Hearing a pursuit behind him, the man ducked and waved through unfamiliar streets.

"This way, ya know!" one of the pursuers shouted.

Though he didn't feel as though he'd done anything wrong, the man somehow doubted his explanation would go over well. Who would honestly believe that he'd fallen out of the sky with no clothes and a memory filled with more holes than a piece of swiss cheese? The only reason he believed it himself was because it'd happened to him.

A bridge ahead crossed over a small canal. The man slid into the chilly water, cowering beneath the shadows under the bridge. Footsteps pounded overhead, and the man sank down as low as he could in the shallow water. A dark face with glowing yellow eyes peered beneath the bridge, fingers clinging tightly to the edge to prevent him from falling in. "Please," the man mouthed silently, pulling back deeper in the shadows. "Leave me alone."

The creature nodded, it's over-sized hat nearly falling in the water from the motion. It moved out of sight, and moments later a childish voice called out, "No one over here, Seifer!"

"Gone!" a young woman announced sharply.

The man waited until the only sound he heard was the water rushing by. Only then did he crawl out from under the bridge. He peered around cautiously, ready to flee if he saw anyone. Fortunately, the streets were empty. Quiet houses lined the street. Most importantly, some of the houses had clothes strung out to dry. In a relatively short amount of time, the man acquired a pair of slightly too large brown trousers and a blue shirt – both still slightly damp. He was starting to despair of ever being dry.

Not wanting to sleep out in the open, the man began exploring. Now that he wasn't being chased, he felt free to take his time. He started by following the canal, enjoying the soothing babble of the water. An overlook ahead drew his attention. The man hurried over and peered out. Far below, he could see the beach. The view from above made him glad he'd taken the train. Walking would have taken forever.

The man turned to continue his search and yelped as he saw someone right beside. "Hey, whoa! Don't sneak up on a guy like that!" he exclaimed, waving his hands frantically. He'd half-expected that this person was about to corner him about his stolen clothes. And then he realized that the person was performing the same frantic waving. The man went still and the person went still. It was a reflection in a wall of cascading water!

"So, this is me. Not bad," the man murmured, moving closer to investigate. He studied his reflection, pleased that he did recognize it as his own face. He ran his fingers through his short blond hair. Though it was plastered down from being wet, he pictured it spiked up in gentle waves. Blue eyes bright with intelligence stared out of a youthful face. "Not bad at all. I bet the girls would be swooning all over if I got the chance to clean up a bit."

Giving his reflection a wink, the man said, "Well, handsome, it was nice seeing you. But I need to find someplace to rest. Don't worry, though. I'll see you around."

This time the man retraced his steps, wishing he knew how to find anything in this town. He couldn't recall a place with so many twists and turns. Of course, since he couldn't recall much else either, that was a moot point.

As the road ended at a tunnel, the man paused to consider his options. Certainly the town was open, there weren't many little nooks for a man to camp out in. And no signs stated that the tunnel had restricted access.

With some hesitation, not knowing what the darkness might be hiding, the man entered the tunnel. No monsters jumped out to attack him. Instead, the tunnel merely turned into a mess of walkways. Signs were posted to offer directions, but they meant nothing to the man beyond the assumption that an exit lay in the directions being pointed out. When the man found that the tunnels didn't even offer benches to stretch out upon, he chose the nearest exit he could find.

The tunnel opened out into an alley. The man doubted many came this way. Buildings crowded close together, giving the area a claustrophobic feel. It didn't smell much like an alley, in the man's opinion. There was no scent of city grime and garbage. Instead, the man merely smelled the earthy scent of the pavement and the salty scent of the sea floating on a breeze.

And there was a chainlink door. The man moved closer to investigate. He could see furniture, but no people. Hesitantly, he pushed at the door and was surprised to find it wasn't locked. As he stepped inside, the door closed behind him with a soft clank. The man wasn't concerned about stealth anymore, however. He collapsed onto the ratty purple couch and fell into an exhausted sleep.

"Hey, this is our spot!" The words were followed by a prodding at his side which jerked the man ever closer to wakefulness. He grunted and reached out, swatting in vain at the annoyance. The prodding merely moved to his shoulder. Grousing silently, the man cracked open his eyes to fix his piercing glare on three young people – two boys and a girl.

The boys couldn't have appeared more different. One appeared trim and athletic. He seemed made for fighting, his sleeveless t-shirt showing off lean, wiry arms. The other boy was more solidly built. His bushy brown hair kept out of his face by a sweatband. The girl stood back at a safe distance. She toyed nervously with a tendril of hair as she watched.

"I don't do kiddie parties," the man grumbled, snatching a stick from the slender boy. Then he dropped his head back down, hoping to be able to sleep again.

The boy stared at his suddenly empty hand. "Hey! You're the one who's trespassing!" he snapped.

The man didn't have to be a genius to realize that he wasn't going to be allowed to go back to sleep. Particularly when the boy grabbed his shirt and pulled him off the couch. "Ow!" the man whined. "Fine, fine. I'm going. There's no need to get violent."

"Hayner!" the girl chided.

The boy had the grace to put on an apologetic expression. He offered a hand which the man stared at warily before clasping. "Sorry," Hayner said. "It's just this is the one place in around here that's really ours. And we don't like people just barging in."

"The gate was open," the man pointed out. "So I just thought..."

"Well, I guess there wasn't any harm done." The boy paused and gestured to himself and his companions. "Anyway, I'm Hayner. That guy's Pence. And she's Olette. What's your name? I don't think I've ever seen you around Twilight Town before."

"Medy," the man answered automatically, blurting the first name which came to mind. For all he knew, it could be his name. Certainly it would do until he could remember.

_Demyx,_came an unbidden thought. The man, Medy, shook his head to clear away that thought. Demyx was a familiar name, but it felt like a name that belonged to somebody else.

_Or _Nobody_ else._


	3. 2: Water Music

**Warnings: **Touch of violence and fluff

**Unchained Melody**

**Chapter 2: Water Music**

If Medy had known what to expect on his first day in Twilight Town, he might have stayed in hiding. Because he didn't know Twilight Town from the dark side of the moon, Olette drew him a rough map, and then the children sent him on his way. They would have given him a grand tour, but Hayner said that they had important things to do. And so Medy was left to his own devices.

With no rush to learn the town, Medy kept his explorations brief. And he liked what he saw. Though he lacked shoes, the sun-warmed cobblestones beneath his feet felt right somehow, as if he'd preferred walking around with bare feet. At least, that's what he thought until he felt a sharp pain in the bottom of his foot. Medy knelt to see what he'd stepped on, and while he was occupied, a hand caught him by the back of the shirt. The person the hand was attached to pulled Medy back upright and whirled him around, pressing his back roughly against a building.

"Hello, stranger," a young man in a sleeveless white coat purred maliciously. He kept Medy pressed back with one hand, the other tapped a sword whose blade was insulated in blue which made it resemble a a club with a hilt, against the brick by Medy's head. "Name's Seifer. I'm the disciplinarian around here, and I think you were causing some trouble last night."

"Come on now, Seifer. I don't want to be any trouble for anyone." Medy tried to force a tremor out of his voice. He'd rather be searching for a job and buying a pair of shoes than dealing with an angry 'disciplinarian.' He wanted to run back to the children's clubhouse and lock the gate. "Now, what do you say we all be friends?"

"I'd say you're a coward and a trouble-maker – the worst kind of trouble-maker there is," Seifer snarled. He thrust his sword into Medy's hands, then pulled back. A girl standing behind Seifer tossed him another of the strange swords and Seifer lifted it to strike. Medy shut his eyes, lifting his arms to ward off the blow.

It was a blow that never came.

Instead, Medy heard gurgling and cursing. He opened his eyes to see grimy water sloshing from above into Seifer's face. With a glance upward, he realized that the water came from the gutters and said a silent thank you to whoever must be up there cleaning them out. Then he took off running.

Medy's feet pounded the pavement as he ran downhill. He could hear his pursuers behind him, though he didn't dare spare a glance to see how closely they followed. The ground sloped even more sharply, forming a ramp. Spotting a side road, Medy leapt over the edge of the ramp and ducked beneath an arched street sign.

Feeling much like a soul being pursued by the hounds of the Underworld, Medy dashed between the buildings until he came out into a large open area. A square of sand filled the space. But more importantly, Hayner and his friends were also in sight. Hayner stood in the middle of the sand, running through motions with the same sort of blue-coated sword while Pence and Olette cheered him on from a bench off to the side of the sandy area.

Medy ignored the startled looks from the children as he plowed through the sand. He rushed past Hayner, kicking up plumes of sand. As Medy reached the end of the sandy area, he vaulted over the bench and ducked behind Pence and Olette. The sounds of pursuit slowed to a stop.

"It figures," Seifer muttered. Medy peered up over the edge of the bench to see Seifer and Hayner circling each other, weapons at the ready. "I should have known he was with you losers."

"Anyone who can get you this riled up is a friend of ours," Hayner countered. He made a feint at Seifer, which was easily countered. "So, we going to do this, or would you rather keep whining?"

"Oh, it's on, Hayner. It's on!"

And indeed it was. The boys burst into a flurry of motion – parrying, thrusting. They moved through the formalities of testing each other's defenses, though they both seemed to know each other's strengths and weaknesses. The battle felt as though it had a rhythm to it, and Medy found his hands drumming out a cadence against the bench. The beat he set was fast and furious, matching the motions of the combatants.

Though not as well-muscled as Seifer, Hayner seemed to depend upon his speed to provide an advantage. This wasn't to say that Seifer was slow; merely that Hayner was that hairsbreadth faster.

Medy's eyes remained glued to the fight as his hands continued the drumming. He barely noticed as Olette elbowed Pence and pointed out something. Not until he heard Pence gasp out a single word. "Amazing!"

Medy's hands faltered on the beat as he turned to see what had caught the children's attention. He only saw water sloshing down over the edges of a bucket set out to catch rainwater, which he found to be expected if someone was cleaning the gutters. Yet, that didn't explain Olette's sudden pout, or why Pence jumped up and rushed to examine the bucket.

"Oh, it stopped!" Olette sighed. "How was the water doing that? Did you find anything, Pence?"

Pence shook his head as he returned to the bench. Unlike Olette, he seemed less disappointed and more intrigued. "Look, Rai and Fuu saw it too! See how they're watching the barrel. Did you see, Medy?" When Medy shook his head, Pence said, "It was like a little version of the Struggle made out of water!"

Medy shook his head again, trying to fight back a sudden tiredness. What imaginations these children had! Even he knew that water didn't behave like that! Feeling less frightened and more amused, he turned his attention back to the battle, only to find it drawing to a close. Both boys were huffing from their exertions, but neither seemed willing to back down.

"Hayner! Seifer! Call it a draw," Olette called out, a beacon of reason in the midst of battle.

Even then, the boys glared at each other, silently daring each other to be the first to speak that dreaded word. At last, Hayner stepped back, lowering his weapon. "Draw," he offered, young voice filled with a distasteful tone. He obviously didn't like being the first to back down.

Seifer also took a step back, lowering his weapon as well. "Until next time," he said. Then he added, "And until then, keep your new friend out of trouble." He stormed off, coat flaring out behind him as he left the sandlot.

After that, the days in Twilight Town passed fairly peacefully for Medy. Hayner, Pence, and Olette agreed to let him stay in their clubhouse under the condition that he paid a daily rent. Medy found that he didn't mind this condition as, after a day of performing odd jobs posted on the job board, he could easily afford that strangely delicious treat for them – sea salt ice cream. He rarely saw the children during the day, and their clubhouse was only his at night. Though they'd been wary at first about letting him stay, apparently strangers were enough of a rarity in Twilight Town that the children had no fear of them.

Even a week after that first face-to-face encounter with Seifer, it still worried through Medy's mind. Perhaps if Medy hadn't arrived as he had, stowing away on the train, Seifer would have left him alone. Though Seifer could never prove that it'd been Medy he'd chased that night, the fact that he'd shown up in town after the event was apparently enough to instantly awaken Seifer's suspicions. Yet, after the battle, Seifer deigned to ignore Medy. He didn't know whether or not to be insulted as he went from cowardly troublemaker to someone Seifer couldn't be bothered with in such a short amount of time.

Life in Twilight Town fell into an enjoyable pattern for Medy. His days were filled with work as he strove to make enough munny to pay his rent and still have something left over for himself. As each day drew to a close, Medy found the ice cream vendor so that he could purchase his rent payment, and then met the children at the Twilight Town Station. The four would climb to the top of the station tower and talk. Medy mostly listened, except on the occasions where he asked questions about the town.

Nights were the most difficult for Medy. As he lay alone on the couch, his dreams were plagued by men in black, a castle in white, and a key. Sometimes he felt the echoes of a gaping emptiness inside, and sometimes it was an insatiable craving for light. The dreams he came to hate the most were the ones filled with a dark nothingness where he only existed as a vague flicker of will, barely able to cling to his existence. In those dreams, soft voices murmured through the darkness, promising peace if he allowed himself to fade.

It was after one of the latter dreams that Medy jerked awake one night to the sound of the chainlink door clattering open. He remained still as he listened to the soft footfalls. "Medy?" a soft voice whispered in the darkness, and for a moment Medy thought it was one of the voices that belonged in his dream.

But only for a moment.

"I'm awake, Olette," he assured the girl as he sat up on the couch.

Olette lit a lantern, setting it down on the crate that Hayner often used for a chair. Medy could see in the flickering light that Olette shook with fear. She looked small and young in her nightgown. Her hair wisped around her head as though she'd only brushed her fingers through it to put it into any kind of order. "I didn't mean to wake you," she said, wringing her hands together. "It's just... There's a monster under my bed. The guys don't believe in it, but it's there!"

Realizing that Olette had come only because she wanted someone to listen, Medy motioned to the couch and she sat. She clasped her hands in her lap and stared down at the floor. "The monster growls and laughs, and it has a scary, booming laugh. Sometimes it talks about how tasty little girls are, and sometimes it says that no one escapes the Boogieman. I caught a glimpse of it once, all lumpy with glowing green eyes. I don't know what to do, Medy! Hayner would fight it. Pence would try to investigate it. He'd figure out everything about it, including how to make it go away. And my parents... They just tell me that I'm too old to believe in the Boogieman."

Olette's lower lip began to tremble as she neared the verge of tears. Though whether they would be tears of frustration or fright, Medy couldn't be certain. To give her a moment to compose herself, Medy poured Olette a cup of water from a pitcher he'd found while helping collect trash. It was an old clay pitcher, with a chip knocked out of the top. Medy felt that the missing chip gave it a bit of personality, and he'd cleaned it up and kept it filled.

Olette accepted both the water and the moment's composure with a grateful smile. It was Medy who broke the silence, his voice thoughtful as he stared up at the ceiling. "You know, the things that hide in the dark are normally only scary because you can't see them. Put them in the light, and they might not be so scary at all," he pointed out. "Would you believe that I think I might have been one of the things hiding in the dark once?"

Medy flashed Olette his most charming grin as she burst into laughter. He knew that he was hardly frightening or intimidating, and trying to picture him as thus was ludicrous. But Olette's warm laughter was just the thing to hold the shadows at bay. Fear fed the darkness, but joy confused it and forced it back.

Leaning against Medy, Olette laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. She wiped them away without a thought. "The day anyone finds you scary, Medy, is the day I take up Struggling. Still, I needed that. Thanks."

This time, the silence that filled the clubhouse was of the companionable sort, the terse fear from early having evaporated. Medy knew Olette would be leaving soon, and then he could drift back to sleep. He felt that maybe his own dreams would be more peaceful tonight. After all, he didn't have a bed under which boogiemen could hide.

"My mom used to sing to me when I was scared. Before I became too old to be scared of the dark," Olette said. Her expression softened as she began to hum a haunting melody. Medy nodded his head in time with the music, finding the tune a simple one. And then Olette began to sing, the notes clear and beautiful. "Golden slumbers kiss your eyes; smiles await you when you rise."

As the first verse drew to an end, Medy's gentle baritone voice took it up again. The impulsive need to sing, to lose himself to the music, filling his heart. Yet Medy almost faltered as he saw the water in Olette's cup beginning to rise. As he missed a note, startled by what he was seeing, the bubble of water nearly lost its shape. But as Medy continued to sing, both he and Olette watched.

The water lifted out in a globe at first, but as the song continued and Medy focused his concentration, its shape changed. The top half of the globe spiraled upward into a point. Layers peeled away and flared out, adjusting itself to Medy's will. Occasionally, a ripple passed through the water as it struggled to splash back into its original shape. But at last he managed to form a single, perfect rose from the water.

Medy let the last note of the song die off, shaking from the exertion of imposing his will upon the liquid. The water splashed back down, half as much spilling over the edge of the cup as went into the cup.

"I have no clue how I did that," Medy breathed into the silence.


	4. 3: Heart's Cadence

**Warnings: **Spookiness

**Unchained Melody**

**Chapter 3: Heart's Cadence**

The days in Twilight Town faded into weeks, and Medy filled his days with work. He worked himself into near exhaustion, paid the ice cream rent to his young landlords, and dropped to the couch in a dreamless sleep on a regular basis. More than anything he wanted to pretend that he was normal, and he didn't want to think about the things he could do with water. Yet it was hard to pretend when every time he spied a puddle, he wanted to shy away from it.

On the day Olette, with the best of intentions, gifted Medy with a simple recorder, he accepted the instrument with the joy of one receiving a rattlesnake. He gave the girl a quiet thank you and tucked the instrument away. Though a part of Medy wanted to play the recorder and listen to the sweet notes, he resisted. When he had time between odd jobs, sometimes he would go to Sunset Hill to sit and run his fingers over the holes as though he were working out songs. But never once did he risk bringing forth sound from the instrument.

When rain came to Twilight Town, Medy remained in the clubhouse. The drops pattered onto the roof, and in his mind Medy found a rhythm. Drip, drop, drip – nature's music serenaded Twilight Town. And Medy hid his head under a pillow to drown out that music. The effort proved a futile one, for the tune still thrummed through his head, begging for him to join in and make the water dance. And all Medy wanted was to be normal.

Thunder added its deep, bass rumble to the music. Medy rolled off the couch and stormed to the door, preparing to bellow at the sky to just knock it off already. "Hey, Medy!" a voice called out.

Medy whirled to see Hayner, soaked through with the rain water plastering his clothes to his body. Hayner pushed a few strands of rain-slicked hair out of his eyes and flashed Medy that undefeatable grin. Apparently not even the storm could dampen Hayner's spirits. "Hey," Hayner said again. "We're going to hang out at the abandoned mansion. Want to come?"

Once Hayner got an idea in his head, he was not to be dissuaded. And so, as Medy began to decline, the younger boy grabbed his arm and pulled him further out into the rain. The water fell in sheets of droplets, and within moments Medy was as soaked through as Hayner. Yet he found that he didn't mind, for the water behaved as water should. Medy began to feel foolish for his fears.

No one else stirred on the streets as the two made their way through the town. Most people had the good sense to stay in out of the rain. Not so with Medy and Hayner. The two dashed through the empty streets, paying no heed to puddles. They were soaked through everywhere else, so a little water in their shoes would be no big deal.

The boys barreled into Tram Common. Bored shopkeepers perked to attention, waving as Hayner and Medy passed by. As they came in sight of the tram after which that area of town was known for, the boys hopped on for a few moments out of the rain. Medy slumped into the tram's seat, trying to ignore the squish of his sodden clothes.

"You know, I heard from Olette that you could probably keep us dry."

Medy's head jerked up, his expression a mixture of guilt and fear. Maybe he could indeed have made the raindrops dance away from himself and Hayner, but doing so would have left him unable to pretend that he was normal. Was normalcy really too much to ask for?

"Hey, don't give me that look!" Hayner exclaimed. "It's no big deal if you can't. Besides, I was already soaked when I got to you." And with the flightiness of the young, Hayner dismissed the topic easily, peering out of the tram. "Come on! It's our stop!"

A hole in the wall which surrounded the city loomed ahead. Medy had yet to figure out the purpose of the wall. Perhaps once Twilight Town might have had enemies which needed to be repelled. But the most violence he had seen had merely been the Struggle battles. Though he supposed that those, too, could be the legacy of more violent times.

Medy leapt off the tram and stood beside the track, staring up into the sky. Droplets continued to fall, splashing onto his face and trailing down his cheeks in a cool lover's caress. If the water had a voice, he felt it would be calling out to him, asking him to make music. But Medy didn't answer that silent plea.

Instead, Medy followed Hayner through the hole in the wall and into the woods. As they dashed down the winding path between the trees, the boys had a slight break from the rain as the leaves overhead acted like miniature umbrellas and redirected the water's fall. The path opened out on a clearing and a gated wall beyond which Medy could see the mansion.

Even in its ramshackle condition, the abandoned mansion remained majestic. Worn pillars lined the walkway to the house, standing at soldierly attention. Perhaps they'd once supported a lattice-work for vines to cling to. Now all that remained overhead was sky. As the boys passed through the gate and neared the house, Medy could see tattered curtains waving from the wind blowing through broken window panes.

Medy didn't like the look of the house, but he didn't want to say anything in front of Hayner. Though Medy wanted to return to the safety of Twilight Town, he continued to move forward, albeit cautiously. Hayner reached the door first and glanced back over his shoulder. "Stop dawdling," he called out. "Nothing's going to jump out and eat you."

As the door swung open like a gaping maw ready to devour anyone foolish enough to step inside, Medy regretted Hayner's choice of phrasing. But as Hayner dashed inside, Medy followed. If anything happened to the kids, Medy wanted to try to help them. They were the only friends he could remember, and he wasn't about to leave them to the not-so-tender mercies of mansion spooks.

The foyer, Medy noted, was wide open. Apparently the mansion's original inhabitants had enjoyed having space. Straight ahead, a glass door opened onto an overgrown garden. To the left and right were a pair of doors, one with so much debris blocking it that exploration was out of the question. Near the doors, a pair of staircases curved upwards to another hallway. For all of the mansion's spookiness, the only inhabitants Medy could discern were dust bunnies.

Hayner started up the staircase on the left, moving with the ease of one familiar with the area. It surprised Medy that the children didn't use this place as their clubhouse. Certainly it was bigger than the place in the alley. But then, it was also further away, and there was an undeniable sense of being a visitor. No, Medy didn't need to wonder. The clubhouse felt like it belonged to the children, whereas this place didn't. And a place you could call your own was always better than big and fancy.

"Watch your step when you come in here," Hayner warned before entering a room at the top of the stairs. Instantly, Medy's mind was filled with worries of unstable floors. What he didn't expect was a noticeable lack of floor. A small strip of flooring was right inside the door, barely enough to walk comfortably upon. Beyond that, though, was nothing but a broken neck waiting to happen.

Cautiously approaching the edge, Medy peered down. Below was a barren room of cold metal – a sharp contrast to the cozy, if floorless, library he was in now. Against the far wall of the metal room, flush against the edge of the remnants of the library floor, was a staircase.

"Will you hurry up? Everyone else is already here," Hayner snapped, his voice brimming with impatience. He was already halfway down the stairs while Medy cowered at the edge of the floor. 

Medy started down, keeping one hand against the wall to steady himself. "Why did you guys want to come here?" Medy asked in a soft whine. He could think of many safer places to play – places that he would much rather be right now.

Hayner skipped over the last few steps, jumping down to the floor. "Because it's dry here, and Seifer and I want to have a few Struggles. And Pence wants to play with the computer." Hayner made it sound as though these were the most matter-of-fact reasons in the world. Medy supposed that to a child, it would make sense. It was a way to play the games the children wanted without having to worry much about the weather.

When the boys passed through a door next to the stairs, they found themselves in a dark room illuminated by light from the screens of some sort of computer. Medy spotted Pence's wild mop of dark hair poking up over the back of the chair at the machine. Olette stood off to the side, watching Pence work at the computer.

As Hayner and Medy approached, Olette turned to wave. Hayner returned her greeting with a soft grunt and left the room. Olette just sighed and shook her head. "Boys," she muttered. Then she grabbed Medy's hand and pulled him over to the computer. "Come here. Pence was thinking that maybe you're from the Other Twilight Town, so we're checking the data to see if there's any sign of you."

"Other Twilight Town?" Medy repeated skeptically.

"That's right," Pence called out. "There's a second Twilight Town made completely out of data. And this terminal holds all the information on it. We found out about this place a while back, and it's possible for items made of data to go back and forth between Twilight Towns, so why not people?"

Olette bobbed her head in agreement. "Pence thinks that maybe when you came through to our Twilight Town, your memory was scrambled."

Medy eyed the machine skeptically. He was willing to believe in the possibility of other worlds. But he'd always assumed that each world would be different and unique, not a man-made carbon copy of an already existing world. Still, it wouldn't hurt to let the kids try. If Pence and Olette could find out something – anything – Medy would be grateful.

A clatter erupted from the next room. Medy hurried to find out what was happening. As he pulled the door open, Hayner nearly slid into him. Only the younger boy's quick reflexes allowed him to spring out of the way in time to avoid an unfortunate crash.

"Foul!" Fuu called out. She stood against the far wall, as calm and stern as ever.

Seifer's other follower, Rai, however, jumped around making a time-out motion with his hands. "Yeah! You totally went out of bounds, Hayner, ya know!"

Hayner glared at the two would-be referees, then stormed back to the center of the room. He and Seifer shook hands before dropping back into attack stances. They circled each other, waiting for a signal. "Go!" Fuu called out. She wasn't the sort to use two words when only one would do.

At Fuu's signal, Hayner and Seifer lunged for each other. The two were a flurry of motion as they performed an intricate dance known only to themselves. Struggle bats would lash out, only to be blocked. Seifer jumped higher than Medy thought was humanly possible and came down at an angle. Hayner, judging Seifer's trajectory ran straight for him rather than away. When Seifer landed, Hayner was behind him, and Seifer had to spin quickly on his heels in an attempt to bring his Struggle bat up in time.

Even then, Hayner scored a blow on Seifer's shoulder. Seifer let out a grunt of surprise as Hayner pressed his advantage. Strike after strike pushed Seifer back. Only when he was a fraction of an inch away from the area deemed out of bounds was Seifer able to remount his defense.

While Seifer fought his way back to the center of the room, Medy inched along against the wall until he stood next to Rai. "Hey, where's the short one?" Medy asked.

Rai jerked his thumb towards a second door in the room. "Vivi? He went that way, ya know; wanted to check out the white room."

White room? Figuring that he might as well see all there was to see, Medy continued along to the door Rai had pointed out. It opened onto yet another metal corridor lit by strange pods lining the walls. Medy reached out to touch one of the pods, noting that it felt like cool glass against his palm. They were rather pretty, he decided, like closed-up rosebuds.

The hall of glass rosebuds opened on what could only be the white room Rai had mentioned. Floor, walls, and ceiling practically glowed with a brilliant whiteness. Vivi was easy to find. He was a spot of color, a touch of darkness amidst the light.

Medy joined Vivi in the center of the room, crouching down beside the child. Together they stared at what looked like a giant white flower blooming up from the floor. "What is that?" Medy asked.

Vivi shook his head, his over-sized hat bobbing precariously on his head. "I don't know, but it's pretty." Medy couldn't argue with that assessment.

Desiring a closer look, Medy stood and climbed onto the flower. One of the petals drooped downwards to the floor in a perfect ramp, so Medy figured that the flower must have been meant to climb upon. As Medy stood in the center of the flower, he brushed his hands against the petal walls. Unlike the closed-up flowers in the hallway, this one held a faint touch of warmth.

"Medy!" Vivi shrieked.

Medy whirled around in time to see the petals closing up. He tried to leap free of the flower, but only rammed himself into the petal walls. While Medy beat at the walls, trying to make them open again, Vivi shrieked for help. Hayner and Seifer answered Vivi's call, rushing into the white room. They pounded at the flower with their Struggle bats, but to no avail. Fuu and Rai joined them, grabbing at the petals and pulling.

A crystalline goo rose up from the floor, swirling itself around Medy's body. He tried to pull himself loose, but with nowhere to run he only wound up caught again. As the goo closed up over his head, the world suddenly went dark. The last thing Medy was aware of was an emotionless voice saying, "Begin memory restoration."


End file.
